Blur
by yorushihe
Summary: Part One of Blur series - Dreaming of Earth. Thorin dreams of Valinor, and his Greed pulls him further... Now to face the consequences, which may include living inside a girl's body... Thorin/fem!Harry (kind of).
1. Prologue

**Blur, Part 01 – Dreaming of Earth.**

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Prologue**

 **OpqOpqO**

It was a really strange feeling.

Floating, stars streaking past him in small beams of light as he uplifted through the Universe's way. He was vaguely aware that this was a dream, but what a queer one! Usually his sleeping mind was plagued by Dragon Fire, screams and blood – and sometimes, by a pale snarling face swinging down a cleaver upon his head.

So the sheer variation of what he was used to hit him hard.

This was no battlefield, no mountain lit up in flames, no brother dying in his arms… he wasn't listening to the cries of hunger, nor the pleas for mercy. There was no Black Speech polluting the air with its fowl breath, no taint of Orcich blades to mar the colors black.

Just streaking stars passing him by and a feeling of complete peace.

Perhaps the gods took a moment's mercy on him – he thought absently, remembering nursery stories told to him by his amad – She'd tell tales about the Valar, about each and every one of them, not only Mahal. He remembered now a particular story that always interested him.

" _When Valinor moved to the East sea, the way was closed to all but the Elves – but the Lord of Dreams, Irmo, left a pathway open to his realm, a small token of hope to those left behind in Arda. All who dream may yet reach Irmo's Garden, where there is only peace and healing"_

And little him spent nights concentrating hard on his dreams, hoping to find said path into the Gardens that reflected Valinor – maybe he's catch a glimpse of Mahal himself, or one of his forefathers – alas, it never happened.

At least until now.

The faint echoes of his amad's voice telling him the story had his fëa crave that promised comfort. As a Dwarrow, he'd find comfort in the midst of stone or his craft. The warmth of a forge baking his skin rough, the weight of a hammer in his palms and the song of metal hitting metal sounding loud and ringing… Or maybe even in his remaining family's presence. His cousins, sister and nephews…

None of them were there.

And at the end of the light tunneling around him, he could see a bright island, lit from within by a brilliant soul, scorching in its heat by as warm as a hug when it finally reached him.

" _What if I go beyond?"_ His old infancy fantasies were returning in a rage. Maybe if he went beyond Irmo's realm he'd find Mahal's halls. Maybe he'd meet his father and grandfather and brother again. Maybe. Maybe. _Maybe._ " _Should I go beyond?"_ Sound and light blurred into a single blunt stimulant to his senses.

Beyond the lights of the Garden the Universe stretched still. Beyond the world the Valar molded were even more worlds, even more lights – some dimmer, some brighter, but all so very beautiful.

And when he least realized, because of his greed he was beyond the Gardens, beyond Arda and Valinor, and beyond everything he's ever seen or met.

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Epilogue End.**

 **OpqOpqO**


	2. Lucy

**Blur, Part 01 – Dreaming of Earth.**

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Chapter 01: Lucy**

 **OpqOpqO**

He woke up with a yawn.

There was a deep sense of mourning twisting his insides, but he ignored it and sat for an extra minute or two on his four poster bed. He tried to remember what he was supposed to do today, but his mind came up blank.

Too early to think properly, as it was most days – he wasn't able to count more than four hours of sleep each night, if only that, so to be awake before the sun was even shining wasn't exactly rare – at least for the last year or so.

Wait…

' _Is Hermione coming over today?'_ A drowsy voice echoed in his head. He rose from his bed and dragged his feet on the carpet, blissfully digging his toes on the plush thing until he found the bathroom door. ' _Or was I supposed to go over?'_ The voice wondered again and he was left to puzzle from where these utterly alien thoughts were coming from.

The door handle was cold against his palm. Strange. With skin as rough and callused as his, the sharp sting of cold didn't bother him much. But he pushed the door open and peered into the foreign bathroom. He didn't recognize this place – there was a sink, but the ceramic bowl (toilet? Was that a toilet?) was a novelty… or was it? Beside the toilet was a large bathtub, also made of polished ceramic and shining brass.

' _I have bags under my eyes, great…'_ The voice complained, and that's when he finally got a good look at his face – he was facing a mirror, a flat and perfectly smooth surface, the most precise mirror he's ever seen – but there was no surprise, he's seen this mirror every day for weeks now, ever since he moved into his godfather's house he-

That wasn't his face!

His eyes blinked back at him. Large, emerald colored irises that shone with inner light. A straight, proud nose and small thin lips. The hair was thick and wild, falling in untamed waves down slim, small shoulders. He had the innate sense that there was something missing from his face. ' _Glasses. Have to find my glasses'_ Where were his glasses?

No! He didn't wear glasses! He didn't know what those things were (portable lenses to be wore in front of one's eyes, decorative frames make them a nice accessory) the knowledge came unbidden. A fountain bubbling in the back of his mind… (… the lenses bend the light and change the eye's focus, fixing the malfunction behind the crystalline and correcting the image…) That knowledge wasn't his!

He didn't know about glasses, nor light or bends or crystallines. He knew about forging, fighting, he knew Dwarrow politics and tactics, he knew lore and honor and duty, he was a blacksmith, a warrior, a king, an uncle and a _hero._

No… not a hero yet. _He_ was not a hero _. She,_ however, _was._

' _I must have left them in the sitting room the night before'_ The voice continued to ponder the possible location of his glasses. No. Not _his._ _Her_ glasses. _He_ was not _She_. He had to try and separate them…

' **This dream is becoming unbearably extraneous** ' He thought to himself, with an odd conviction that bubbled in his chest like boiling water. He was losing what made him, _him,_ and what part of him came from _her_ , the black haired, emerald eyed female he's seen reflected in the mirror instead of his own gruff image.

There was a jolt that traveled all over his body. ' _What?'_ He was scared – no, the fear was coming from _her_. _She_ was scared, he was simply vexed yet her fear tickled into him as if they were both one and the same. ' _Oh no… Oh no… I'm hearing voices, voices in my head… Hermione will have my head!'_ But it wasn't his fault that he was hearing voices once more-

' **I do not hear voices in my head!** ' He grounded out internally. It was tough separating his feelings from the outlandish ones coming from her. ' **Stop this nonsense right now!** ' He ordered himself, but somehow, this seemed to tramontane any barriers separating them, just like her own thoughts reaching him, his seemed to reach _her_.

Uninvited memories started to swirl in his mind. A little girl, scared and alone, standing before a long, long corridor while she tried to run away from a harshly whispering voice that called and called for blood and death and destruction. A giant snake baring its sword sized fangs on her as another little flame haired girl stood there watching.

' _Yeah, that's right, this is nonsense! I'm not a parseltongue anymore. Voldemort is gone. There is no way I'm hearing voices. Must be the lack of sleep finally addling my brain'_ Now that he was getting used to this trickle of thoughts that weren't his, he could finally discern them from his own, and while this other _mind_ conjured thoughts of a pale, noseless monster, he was distinctly aware that _that_ was Voldemort.

The twisted face could almost fit in the place of another white skinned beast – Snarling, bared teeth coated in the blood of his kin, a war cry that sent shivers down his back and red eyes that burned with the fire pits of Mordor come embodied in the form of a single entity. The squashed nose and thick lips pulled back, numeral scars marring that pasty skin and the hate written all over the mien of his enemy.

' _That's not what Voldemort looked like!'_ The girl (she was eighteen, barely of age, living alone in the house her godfather left her after she moved out the house of her abusive family) waved off his thoughts about Azog, overlapping it with her picture of Voldemort more forcefully than was necessary. He winced, barely able to scramble that stamp from his mind before he too would remember Azog with Voldemort's face.

' **This is getting dangerous** _,_ **stop forcing your thoughts on me** ' By now, it was more or less clear that in this dream, he shared the body of his girl. Adventitious venture or not… Panic swelled in her, so strong it moved him despite his best attempts at separation. He got another swamp of unwanted memories from her, and the single impression that _this has happened once before._

The sheer pain of having her mind ripped open and scavenged, raped, bent and warped and manipulated. It was a pain that left an ongoing fear, made worse because the scars left her wide open. (Legilimensy is the art of reading minds, Occlumency is how you protect yourself against it).

The body was _hers_. He was the one _invading._ The thought made him feel nauseous.

Or was that her?

Both of them were feeling nauseous. ' _Please, please let it not be true.'_ She begged silently, still standing in the middle of her bathroom making faces at the mirror, hand halfway to a toothbrush that she was letting down. The taste of peppermint coating his tongue was peculiar, even more because it was much stronger than the odd mint leaves he chewed on after smoking – ' _I don't smoke! I don't smoke! Toothpaste always tasted like this'_

Guilt invaded his being. His presence was anguishing to this young creature. And she was young, barely a tenth of his age.

He better find a way to separate his thoughts better, but ' **You could help me segregate our thoughts** ' He suggested. ' **I do not know what is going on, and I am contrite that my presence has affected you so, yet know I am not here on my own free will** ' Conveying that much to her, he tried to pass how sincere he was.

Doubt. Conflict. Fear. Fear. _Fear_. Now she knew there _was_ someone in her head. She was horrible at protecting her thoughts (Occlumency) because an old teacher (Snape. Severus Snape. Hate, disdain, guilt) never bothered with trying to teach her hard enough – and then, as if a dam has been closed once more, no more thoughts came from her.

One more look in the mirror. He could see how shadowed her eyes were, and if he dug in the green depths hard enough, he could see himself there – rueful blue hues that reflected his soul inside the female's.

' _I'm Lucy…'_ She tentatively sent. ' _But I guess you already knew that'_ Resentment colored _that_ thought however, she was a little bitter no matter what reassurances he made. He didn't blame her one bit. She knew that he knew she resented his presence, but he said nothing and tried not to let his own bitterness show.

' **I am Thorin** ' He resisted valiantly the urge to say 'you already knew that too' – he was the tenant in their relationship – for however long he spent in this situation, she'd be the one in control.

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Chapter 01 End**

 **OpqOpqO**


	3. An Under Stand

**Blur, Part 01 – Dreaming of Earth.**

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Chapter 02: An Under Stand.**

 **OpqOpqO**

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

A repetitive, boring exercise that Lucy insisted on doing. She said it helped keep her thoughts calm, but Thorin was in painful testimony that her mind was all but placid at the moment.

They were still standing in the bathroom, but now there was a hint of sun peeking from the narrow window at the corner – a frayed old curtain over it (she intended to have it changed once she had more control of her life-). ' _This isn't working'_ She thought to him after having to curb another plunder of memories from overlapping his mind.

He had to agree. ' **Your mental discipline is abominable, my nephews know more discipline than you** ' A deep sense of hurt affront welled from her.

' _Your nephews never had to use the bathroom with a man in their head'_ she threw back, trying to hide the growing embarrassment. Thorin, to his own chagrin, could also feel what inputs she was being privy to, and he could say that feeling _her_ bladder full was something as remote as what _he_ felt…

She… well… she didn't have a _penis._ ' _Of course I don't have a penis! Oh Merlin, this is mortifying'_ To make things worse, of course the topic of 'conversation' at hand had to draw up a very detailed image of his anatomy – he was comfortable with his body, thank you – but _she was not_. ' _Oh…'_ The mental squeak was amusing, female sensitivities were filling him and instead of the embarrassment he expected to feel, he got the impression that his… _maleness_ … was not conforming to the idea she had.

Perplexing as it was, it seemed that wherever he managed to land, sexual education was common to adolescents, and she had knowledge only a married woman would carry, even if she was a maiden herself. He had to put a stop to this strain of thought before it got out of hand. ' **Take care of your business, it is making** _ **me**_ **uncomfortable** '

Easier said than done, he wasn't the one with a male prancing in his head – and those were not his thoughts. The more tumult she felt, the harder to separate them became ' _Then don't distract me! Think of something else or simply don't think at all'_

Wasn't she a demanding little thing?

She huffed, but he made an effort to condone her wishes at having a smidge of privacy. He wasn't exactly brimming with cheers at the moment as well, he was a male locked in a female's mind and feeling everything she did and – oh, wasn't that an exquisite sensation? – no, don't focus on it…

' _Thank you'_ Lucy snipped after she was done with the toilet, and was now pulling on her underclothes (Panties, they're called panties) up. ' _I will pass a bath for now'_ She said, eyeing the tube. As it did when she thought deeper about something, instinctive memories about the subject came forth from her mind and he caught glimpses and echoes of sensations of being submerged in warm, bubble filled water in that tube.

When she was done with the bathroom. ' _Enough is enough'_ She growled to herself, but he heard. ' _How about some breakfast and then I can call Hermione?'_ The question was obviously directed at him, with a faint feeling of queer unbelief that she was humoring this new development and taking it this calmly. ' _You have yet to try and possess me'_

' **Our thoughts and feelings are being shared** ' Thorin thought to her. ' **Your thoughts reach me, I reflect on them and you receive back what I make of your ablutions** ' he realized. Like two minds working in tandem inside the same body – but what he really used as a metaphor was a pair of blacksmiths working together in a forge in perfect harmony, communication scarce yet synchronization was perfect.

' _I don't understand…'_ But it was different from the first time she had her mind taken from her. She made her way out of the master room and walked barefoot through a barely lit corridor.

He wondered about that ' **Explain** ' The wooden floor boards foreign to him, but so familiar to her. The kitchen was just on the other side of the arch beside the stair case. (There used to be a nasty portrait of Sirius' mum right on that wall) Whoever Sirius was (Her Godfather) Oh… The subject escaped them both for the moment.

Lucy busied herself with making breakfast, unconsciously picking out more meat than she was used to – he was the one who favored meat and heavier foods, a better source of energy than mere grains and vegetable to a Dwarrow. ' _Can't you read my memories?'_ She grouched, distrustful.

' **No. Your memories are not my own unless you bring them for our perusal** ' More like an instinctive reaction of her brain than anything. She saw something, it evoked a memory from her mind, and she made decisions based on previous experience.

' _Then let me try something'_ She half focused on her food, and half focused on bringing forth the memories he so wanted – how is it possible that she had her mind invaded before? How is he getting _out_.

Thorin saw it then… As she mechanically went about preparing food, her head became a condensed mess of thoughts, feelings, sensations and memories spamming a decade and a half. Flashes of a childhood spent utterly alone. Years growing up having none other than herself to rely on. Then the mystical, incredible door that opened to her when she was eleven…

Magic. Magic was real, and right on her fingertips. She was a witch. She was special. Hogwarts. Friends. _Ron and Hermione, Nevile, Ginny, Luna._ Intrigue, curiosity and a deeply planted self given duty to _protect it all_. Hogwarts was her magical world, as fragile and fractured as this new reality was, it was one she belonged to – hers to guard.

And after watching as her life flashed before his eyes, he had to grudgingly accept one thing. They were kindred spirits in almost everything but a few key points. And ' **You are not dyeing to get rid of me** ' He had to make that very clear.

' _Not this time'_ She agreed and he continued.

Both were self-sacrificing and natural leaders. She had a hard, faulty childhood and he had one too. She saw her fair share of battle and gore and violence before she was ready, and lost important people, family (Remus, Tonks, Mr. Weasley, Fred) as well as he. They had the strong urge to protect, the wish to find somewhere to belong.

' **Will I reclaim Erebor the same way you reclaimed your castle?** ' He wondered to himself, caught in a twilight of confusion as her memories settled as his own. It was obvious to him by the difference between him and _her_. What was his memories and what came from Lucy. Eighteen years of a life spent as a female, as a witch, were added to his almost two centuries of living as a Dwarrow.

' _I don't know, what is Erebor?'_ The curiosity was innocent. It came from Lucy in a note of compassion and even a little understanding, and only then did Thorin took notice of how, as he went through her life, he combined a bit of her experiences with his own, and as he stated before – whatever she thought, he could ruminate and send it back. Lucy felt how he now connected with her, and she was more comfortable with having someone understanding in her head.

 _Kindred Spirits._

And even a little bit of _love_.

Lucy sat down at the head of a large dining table with her plate. He could smell through her nose wafts of bacon and sausages, scrambled eggs and a cup of strong tea. Her stomach rumbled and she dug in with gusto. Thorin reveled in the food, remotely surprised by the amount of it Lucy was currently inhaling – she was such a small thing!

' _Witch. Magic takes a heavy toll on our bodies, need to consume twice as much calories'_ What are calories? (energy unit – one calorie heats a gram of water by one decree). Interesting but completely unnecessary knowledge to him. ' _That's what Hermione says anyway'_ Still wasn't useful. ' _Can you tell me what Erebor is now?'_

Right. He's been successfully distracted by the myriad of new things assaulting his senses, and neglected her previous question… ' **Erebor is one of the great Kingdoms of Dwarrows – founded by my ancestors, the sons of Durin, it stood proud and fierce in the Lonely Mountain, flourishing and growing until the Dragon** (I flew on the back of a dragon before) **came** ' The memories he had of the old halls flourished under her lids, and he could feel her awe as if it was his own.

' _It is beautiful'_ She thought, appreciating the images as they were, along with the bittersweet feelings oozing from him. ' _You will have it back'_ Lucy tried to assure, if he was half as dauntless as she was, she knew he would reclaim his home _just like she reclaimed Hogwarts_.

But how could he go around claiming it back, if he was stuck in the head of Lucy?

' _I'm sure Hermione will be able to help us'_ Once more came from her assurance. ' _Now… what are Dwarrows?'_

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Chapter 02 End**

 **OpqOpqO**


	4. Two Sides

**Blur, Part 01 – Dreaming of Earth.**

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Chapter 03: Two Sides.**

 **OpqOpqO**

' **That is awfully indecent** ' Was the first thing that came from Thorin when he saw what Hermione was wearing. It was a _modest_ piece, but to Thorin's old man sensibilities, the twentieth's century's fashion was simply scandalous in his world.

"Lucy!" Hermione gathered her smaller friend in her arms and _hugged_. Thorin shifted uncomfortably in the back of Lucy's mind, but she has learned to ignore his contrary thoughts for now. Sometimes, their minds blurred together, but most times she could make sense of what came from her, and what was _his._ "You've grown thinner" Her friend frowned, looking down at Lucy.

"And you are starting to sound like Mrs. Weasley" The raven haired witch teased, hiding her uneasy at being told she lost weight. ' _I'm not skipping any meals'_ She reasoned to Thorin when he sent a disapproving wave. ' **Lack of proper sleep weakens one's mind as much as it weakens one's body** ' He nagged. "Come on in" She spoke out loud, opening the door wider so Hermione could come in.

Her friend whirled around, taking in all the difference in décor that Lucy been indulging in after moving to this house. "I do not sound like Moly" Hermione denied firmly. "I just worry about you living here, all alone"

' _And that's why she sounds like Mrs. Weasley'_ The thought came and went to her tenant and she received back what his superior years of living produced. _Friends and family will worry about you regardless of where you are._ And Lucy agreed, suddenly feeling thankful for Hermione's worry.

Having a twice centenary Dwarrow living in her head was proving slightly useful, if only he kept sending her intelligent thoughts. ' **I do not appreciate that** ' he snarked, halfheartedly.

"I know you do, but I am completely fine" A lie. She was suffering from PTSD, survivors' guilt and she had a new voice in her head. ' _Maybe I shouldn't burden her with you…'_ Thorin's anger was palpable. ' **I appreciate that even less. Talk to your friend, Lucy, tell her about me and ask her how to send me back** '

But… ' **Do it** ' And all the reasons why she should do it came crashing down on her from Thorin's massive self. He had to return to his world (Arda – Middle Earth – he had duties, he was a K-) Well… he had family there who needed him (His sister Dís and his nephews Fíli and Kíli) and Lucy was downed by the guilt she suddenly felt at the brush of selfishness she had earlier.

It wouldn't be too bad having Thorin in her head – he kept the sad thoughts at bay, he distracted her, he was _there_. _Hers_. ' **Silly child** ' He was _not_ hers, he belonged to his people and to his world. ' _Alright, I'm sorry'_ But he didn't blame her. A solitary mind will crave company or comfort and he was both. _He also felt the same_.

But his duties were not done yet.

"Um… Actually… I might have a slight problem" Lucy sighed, meeting Hermione's eyes when her bushy haired friend turned.

"What is it Lu… you know you can trust me" The other girl hedged. Thorin was urging Lucy, and in the end she gave in.

"I… I have a voice in my head" And before Hermione could sputter a startled 'what?!', Lucy hurried to explain better. "It isn't like Voldemort at all! At first I thought it was, you know how bullocks I am at protecting my mind. But then I got to know Thorin better and he isn't so bad"

…

' **That was convincing** ' Amusement, exasperation.

' _Hush!'_ Lucy shoved him mentally, but that alien sense of amusement leaked until her lips turned up in a smirk that wasn't her own.

"What?! Lucy! That is serious!" Hermione was up and up Lucy's face, peering into startled green eyes and checking upon her friend with her wand (Bellatrix's wand – Hermione broke my wand so she gave me hers and won Bellatrix Black's wand in a duel) The memories washed over to Thorin, and beside the almost nervous feeling he got when magic was touched, he gave no answer, too engrossed in Hermione's reaction to pay Lucy any more attention.

A slip of hysteria clouded on Lucy's mind. She knew it was serious. That's why she's confiding in her friend. ' _I knew she'd flip! We would have been better researching on our own!'_

"Hermione! I know! That's why I need your help, I can't be sent Saint Mungus, how do we know Thorin won't simply be expelled and _disappear?_ " A shudder. He didn't fancy disappearing.

"This is a _voice in your head_ we're talking about… I knew we should have kept a closer eye on you! Oh Lucy, hearing voices is never a good thing! Have you forgotten already?" Hermione was now pacing. ' **Calm your friend down** ' Thorin advised. ' **She will be of no use worked up like that** ' And that's how things were like for him. Business. Pure and simple business. Lucy tried to soak up his impersonality to the situation, and only managed a little.

"And you think I didn't panic enough this morning? I thought I was going mental! I feared another thing had gotten hold in my mind and I feared Voldemort all over again!" Thorin's guilt was a heavy thing. She now understood this was of no will of his, yet it didn't make her less bitter. "But This time is different. How did Thorin explain it…? Oh yes, Two minds working harmonically to achieve the same thought, in the same body" Offense ' **I was not that clumsy** '. "I need your help Mione… you're the only one I can count on"

Her friend finished pacing and now sat down on one of the arm chairs in the sitting room with a large breath. "What do you mean?" And it was clear from the turbulence on Hermione's face, that she was still fighting against her fear for her friend. "Two minds in the same body?"

"Oh… like a sounding board. I think and Thorin receives the thought as if it was his own, and I have his thoughts as well, we think different things, at the same time, and they become the same thing… I get the impression that he thought he was in his own body and thought there was nothing wrong, until I looked at the mirror and he saw _me_ reflected in there" ' **Clever** ' ' _Don't judge, I'm not that articulate as you'_ Sarcasm.

"Literally, two minds? Lucy… you suffered a heavily traumatizing experience. Sometimes, the mind fractures to protect itself, maybe you created this Thorin persona to protect yourself from the pain – but that is not an answer, you have to face what has happened and move forward" Hermione's words evoked a deep sense of outraged frustration from both Thorin _and_ Lucy.

' **She is practical, she is trying to look at the situation through logical eyes, she is only trying to help us** ' Her tenant thought, mingling his confusing feelings on Hermione's outburst with her own. "We understand why you think so-" ' **Wrong thing to say** ' A wince, anxiety.

Her friend's face reddened. "We? Really Lucy? I have half a mind to drag you to the hospital this instant! We!"

"Look, Hermione! I know I'm not schizophrenic (a mind condition that makes it fragile…). Thorin is real, and he is stuck in my head, it is not my fault we're stuck together" Lucy shook her head. Thorin's part of her was chiding the way she delivered the news to her friend, but she was getting mighty good at ignoring those exotic feelings. Then an idea struck, and Lucy threw it right away at Hermione. "Just try the Presence Revealing Charm" (An old spell used to have certainty that a house was haunted).

The bushy haired witch twitched, but she took out her wand and was casting in a half breath. " _Animus Revelio!"_ And just like Lucy hoped it would happen, instead of only two lights, as _Hermione_ hoped, above the witch's wand lit three little lights, revealing the presence of three different souls in the range of the spell. "Oh…"

"Yes, oh…" Lucy mumbled snappishly. Thorin was silent, but she could feel the radiated smugness – he was real, thank you. "Can you accept that Thorin is not a figment of my imagination?" ' **You are not that creative** ' He needled, and the thought came as if it was hers but she knew better now. ' _I know_ ' she sent back, a tad irked.

Oblivious to the contemplative battle going on inside Lucy's mind, Hermione collected her wits. "For now" her friend spoke shakily. "I still want more proof" She hurried to add when Lucy smiled victoriously. The smile fell. "Why don't you tell me more about Thorin? How did he end inside of you?"

' _How did you end inside of me?'_ Lucy questioned. A veil of shame covered those trails of thought but Lucy had to dig deeper. Thorin could be awfully stubborn but she was _more_. ' _Thorin'_ She poked the niche he occupied in her mind, and out came flowing a string of memories not hers.

She closed her eyes to appreciate the experience, seeing behind her lids the corridor of lights, stretching far and ending on an island made of pure starlight (Valinor – the Gardens of Irmo, Lord of Dreams) and she felt as he did streaking through this pathway. She couldn't help the greedy need to have more than what was offered – had she been in Thorin's place, she'd have done the same thing.

"He was dreaming, and he followed a path made of stars until he got lost and woke up in me" Lucy answered Hermione's query. "He doesn't seem to be from this world as well, he comes from a place called Arda, or Middle Earth" ' **I do not like the glint in your friend's eyes** ' came Thorin's obvious thought. And for the account, neither did Lucy.

A day.

Two days.

Three days.

Four days spent in seamless stark contact with each other and much about them bled to the other without neither realizing or grieving over the fact – they were already very similar, and as the more experienced of the two, Thorin came to love this little being that embraced (however reluctant) his presence.

Lucia Polaria Potter was not only a witch and savior of the Wizarding World. She wasn't just a fractured, lonely little girl anymore, she was also part of Thorin – a nearly two centuries old exiled Dwarrow King.

It took a lot out of Thorin to keep Lucy's mind from his own. Her younger self was fragile and vulnerable, and he still had her painful memories of what having one's mind invaded aggressively felt like – not pleasant – so he didn't want Lucy to lose her sense of self and exist as him.

' _I'm not going to disappear'_ She was stronger than that. And he knew that. If only because he _was_ also like that and they were quite similar already.

' **We could have been one and the same** _'_ He returned ' **For I comprehend your strength as if it is my own** '

It begged the question of. ' _Why did you came to me? Out of everyone in this world, you came to me_ '

By then, he was used to living as a female and could push that part of acquaintanceship to the side. ' **I believe for the reasons we stated before. We are so very alike that we could have been the same being in reverse circumstances** ' had she been a Dwarrow and had he been a witch.

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Chapter 03 End**

 **OpqOpqO**


	5. Back

**Blur, Part 01 – Dreaming of Earth.**

 **OpqOpqO**

 **Chapter 04: Back.**

 **OpqOpqO**

' _Hermione didn't find anything!'_

' **That is a shame** ' He refused to panic, but dread was pooling deep within their stomach. He wanted out. He wanted his own body. His masculinity, his craft, his people. He wanted to crumble stone in his hands and wanted to cradle his sister close, he wanted to spend time with his nephews and wanted to seek council from his cousins.

' _I'm sorry'_ Regret, guilt and anguish. For all he detested being locked in Lucy, she _liked_ having him there – the love spilled freely from her side to his, and he hesitantly returned – it is impossible to know a being like Lucy so deeply like he did, and not love her.

At the moment, Lucy was laying on her bed, tossing and turning. Sleep was becoming harder, for while her mind craved rest, his couldn't be laid to placidity so easily and kept her on edge. ' **I am the one who is sorry, Az-Kholoh** ' (Lady Hero) And indeed, his heart of hearts bled with sorrow for what he was causing his host. Dwarrows were hardy, thick creatures capable of surviving almost anything, but witches weren't.

Thorin received a wave of comfort that had he been in his own body, he'd have smothered in the wake of that wave – he needed it, craved it, so much it hurt. It wasn't as if he had his father's hand on his shoulder all the time while growing up. Thraín was Thror's heir and as a prince, he had duties that whiskered him away from his sons and daughter.

And then, that part of his life was torn away from him by a torrent of Dragon fire and he couldn't stop to grieve and heal, for his father called upon the other seven kingdoms to reclaim their ancient Home in Moira and there a trap waited. His father and brother perished and he had to be that strong pillar of leadership his people needed – less they lose even more faith in those of Durin's blood.

Lucy gave it to him. It was something she needed as well, he reflected. So young and seen too much… ' _I'm not that young_ ' She protested. ' _You're just so old everyone seems young to you_ '

' **Dwarrows can live up to 250 years of age, though the blood of Durin runs thicker and truer to the Maker, I still have color in my hair** ' He longed to feel the texture of his hair, the thick, lively strands as they fell over his shoulder and covered his neck. The slight curls that formed at the end and his myriad of braids and hair beads.

Her curls were soft and pliable, smelling of whatever girly soap she chose to wash it with. The skin she shared with him was smooth and creamy, sliding like silk against a thin, delicate fingertip. It was confusing and emasculating, to be forced inside a female's body – but he thought the venture enlightening and if anything, he grew wiser and kinder for it.

' _I'm glad I made you kinder'_ Lucy teased. ' _If we don't have hope, then how are we to move forward?'_ Well… Here he wasn't Thorin Oakenshield, Exiled King Under the Mountain.

He was… ' **I was demoted from Kingship to being a voice in a girl's head, how hopeful am I supposed to be?** ' Yes, it was a jest, and Lucy's amusement was palpable and delightful, filling him up with more than hope and comfort, but a love for life he's been lacking before, oblivious about joys because there was always something more pressing weighting down on him. He loved Lucy for giving him a chance.

' _Lucky that it was_ _ **my**_ _head'_ Her head was comfy. And easily penetrable… amusement gone. The tactician was back full force and he metaphorically grabbed Lucy in his arms and shook her. ' _I know that is not necessarily a good thing!'_ And indeed, she did know. ' _How about we try to sleep? Hermione and Ron will be here tomorrow, and she will have tons of questions she will want to ask'_

A vague jolly feeling wavered between the two. ' **Your friend cares a lot about you, she is worried** ' with cause. Although Thorin and Lucy understood their situation, to Hermione it was as if her friend has been possessed and was under Thorin's thumb – the Dwarrow was not in control, just along for the ride. ' **But you stand correct, I am sorry for warding you of sleep** ' There were just a lot of things he had to think about.

If Lucy's mind turned off, so did her brain, and so did his thoughts capabilities. He was sharing her brain after all. ' _Good night, Thorin'_

' **Lomil Ghelekh Zainu Zarud** ' (Good night Magic Lady) He sent, and settled back, doing his best to clear his thoughts.

Sleep… it was a wondrous, overly underestimated thing – you did it every night and never thought about how it is made possible. Lucy had a deeper knowledge about how it worked (The temporary memories gathered thought the day are translated into Permanent memories during sleep). Thorin didn't have a body of his own to settle in new memories, so he often wondered if, when he returned to his body, he'd remember Lucy or if she would be nothing more than a dream.

His mind drifted. Nostalgia and a deep ingrained homesickness. He missed home. His being was urging him home, to hone in that direction that would lead to the path back to Arda – no… not only his mind but…

 _You have caused a lot of trouble my Khuzd-ul._

A bright platform opened under his feet, and in front of him stood the most Dwarrowish of Dwarrows Thorin ever saw. His beard was plenty and long, bushy and decorated in a large number of braids and trinkets. The eyebrows were thick, the strands so long they were also braided and framed an earthen face – strong jaw and a bulbous nose, large forehead decorated by the purest Mithril encrusted by dozens of precious stones. A warrior Dwarrow, maybe the Maker himself.

Thorin waited in silence, not daring to speak.

 _My brother has searched far and wild for your fëa, and finally found you in this backwater little planet._ Under their feet, the image of the blue planet spammed. It was such a beautiful sight that it moved Thorin. That was Earth, Lucy's world. _However, you were not alone, were you my Khuzd-ul? You were attached so tightly to this other one, that my brother did not know what fëa belonged to us, and what belonged to Terra._

Lucy. She was there, standing beside him and looking almost mystified at the world unraveling around them. And she was clutching his arm in her small dainty hands.

 _You will return to Arda Khuzd-ul. Your destiny has yet to come undone. Yet, think not your Maker is compassionless. Should your little friend wish, it can come with us._ And there was love shining in the beady black eyes of Mahal as he gazed at the descendant of Durin. Lucy's emerald colored ones searched for his, and he could easily read the wonder in her face when she was able to take him in, in person. _She will have her own body._ Amusement.

"Would you like to come back to Arda with me?" He asked Lucy. Her hold on his arm tightened even more. She was so tiny compared to him! With an arm alone he could embrace her, in one of his hands fit two of hers, and her gleaming black hair seemed almost luminous under thousands of stars. A precious little gem that he came to love through knowing her so _deeply_.

Her young beautiful face twisted in thought. He knew all about her life, and knew the only thing holding her back was the sense of duty she had to that magical society and her friends. No family, no love, no job. Only duty and friends.

It wasn't an easy decision, it wasn't hard either.

"Yes" Lucy breathed out. "I would like to come with you!"

And the Maker's hammer fell on them while Mahal smiled from above. The world broke into a million of tiny pieces that danced away as if to a tune, and formed that long streaking corridor made of light once more.

That's when Thorin woke up. In his own bed. In the Blue Mountains.

The last thing in his mind was Lucy's strangled yell and the Maker's invitation.

 _Come to the East and collect your little Az-Kholoh._

 **OpqOpqO**

Lucia Polaria Potter didn't need to think too long about Thorin's invitation.

It wasn't love in a passionate way – nor it was the deep trust and friendship she shared with Hermione and Ron. It wasn't the love she felt for the parents she never met, not the difficult, contorted affection she still had for the Dursleys. It wasn't the love she had for Sirius and Remus, or the crush she had on Cedric.

Thorin fit in her feelings in a whole new level.

At first, she feared him… but how can she continue to fear a being whose thoughts she could get into? He wasn't perfect – he was as flawed as she was – but he was _there_. They _fit_. They _understood_ the other. Lucy shared his wishes and she was convinced he had hers. _Home, find a home to belong, protect the ones close to our hearts, peace – Peace, all the warmth of a hearth and good company, and the knowledge that what once belonged to him and his people, was_ _ **not**_ _in the hands of an enemy._

So when he asked, she had to face a choice.

A world with Thorin, and a world without him.

 _You shall be brought to Valinor, where a body must be made. Your Terra has given you blessings, so part from this life with no regrets tying you down._

When the world crashed around Lucy, she simply closed her eyes and enjoyed the ride.

 **End of Part 01**

 **OpqOpqO**

Part 02 will be out in a while..


End file.
